


little love, me and you

by supras



Category: One Direction (Band), The Voice (Ireland) RPF
Genre: Domestic Bliss, F/M, Future Fic, Kid Fic, M/M, nessie baby yay!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-04-30
Packaged: 2018-01-21 10:51:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1548020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supras/pseuds/supras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s in November, two weeks before One Directon’s sixth album is released and Bressie’s third has been out for four when Niall brings it up again. For once, Bressie has no argument. </p>
<p>They're doing this. They're going to be dads.</p>
            </blockquote>





	little love, me and you

**Author's Note:**

> Nessie is the ship that never sinks. I adore them together, I adore them separately, and it's a bloody tragedy there isn't more of this ship in this fandom. 
> 
> This fic has been a labour of love so far. Each chapter will be a month of the journey to parenthood, so some will be longer than others (it'll pick up after this), and it should all be up within the next few weeks. Final word count should be somewhere around 35-40k. 
> 
> xx

It’s in early November, two weeks before One Directon’s sixth album is released, and Bressie’s third had been out for four when Niall brings it up again.

“If we start now, by the time it actually happens, both our tours will be over, I’ll be on a break, and you’ll just be filming the shows. It’s perfect really,” he says where he’s sitting tucked into Bressie’s side on the sofa, rugby on the telly. He says it so nonchalantly and unexpectedly for a moment Bressie doesn’t know what he’s talking about, then - _oh_.

Bressie looks down at him, all hesitant but hopeful blue eyes with his lower lip caught between his teeth. They’ve discussed it before, have been discussing it for years, really, since they’d agreed they were both in this for the long run. Though the timing has never been right, waiting for something they so desperately want has been difficult.

At thirty-five, Bressie isn’t getting any younger. He wants to be able to do this before his body tells him he can’t (though sometimes it does anyway), and he knows that even at twenty-three Niall has lived more in the past seven years than most men his age. There’s no doubt in Bressie’s mind that Niall is ready even if he constantly doubts himself.

But Niall has a point. After One Direction’s next world tour concludes the following September, the band will be taking a much needed two year break. Bressie’s own tour will be finishing in July, and all he’ll have are his two television shows, which film in Dublin. It’s going to take time for it to happen, so if they start now they’ll be well into the lull by the time it does. Why wait any longer?

So he ducks his head to press a kiss to Niall’s forehead.

“You’re right.”

Niall pulls back, eyes almost comically wide as he stares, searching Bressie’s face because he’s actually agreeing for once, instead of bring up a tour, or filming, or recording, or _something_. There's always something with them, always has been, one of the side effects of being musicians. 

“Really?” he rasps, voice stuck in his throat.

Bressie nods and that’s all it takes for Niall to wriggle the rest of the way out from under his arm, throwing himself into Bressie’s lap with a whoop of delight. Bressie’s notes for the battle round go tumbling to the floor and he can’t bring himself to care.

“So we’re doing this, we’re really doing this?” Niall asks, like he has to make sure one more time, that Bressie isn’t going to suddenly change his mind. He knows it won’t happen as once Bressie commits to something he’s in it with everything he has, but this. This is _everything_.

Bressie only laughs, pulling him in to kiss him in response.

Niall kisses him back, hard, before mumbling “I love you I love you I love you,” against his lips.

They’re really doing this. They’re going to be parents.

 

\--

 

There are several ways to go about it, and that’s something they haven’t really discussed. Bressie’s thought about it, of course he has, since there’s no biological way for the both of them to make a baby. Adoption has crossed his mind; there are millions of children who need homes and he’d take them all if he could. But there’s a part of him that wants nothing more than a little thing with Niall’s blue eyes and button nose, mischievous and getting into everything. They’d need a surrogate, have to actually _agree_ on a surrogate, and who knows how long that would take. Starting now makes more and more sense the more Bressie thinks about it. 

“The first one is yours,” Niall says suddenly as they go to bed later, after the celebratory _oh my god we’re finally going to be dads_ sex on the sofa. Which needs to become a regular thing, in Bressie’s opinion.

Bressie stops where he’s turning down the bedclothes to get in between the sheets.  

“What?”

“The first baby needs to be yours,” Niall clarifies as he climbs onto their tall bed and settles himself in. He pats the empty space beside him when Bressie doesn’t move.

“But -"

“Brez, you’ve wanted this a lot longer than I have.” Niall’s voice is soft, tender, as he gives Bressie a level look and leans back against the headboard. “And any baby we have will be ours no matter who their biological father is.”

“But I want a little you,” Bressie finally says and Niall rolls his eyes and reaches out to pull him down until he’s on his knees on the mattress beside him.

“And you think I don’t want a mini you? I’ll go next time, chief, promise.”

Niall smiles at him, the one he knows Bressie can’t resist with twinkling eyes and dimples, and that’s that then.

 

\--

 

They don’t tell anyone their plans, not wanting to until everything is settled as not to jinx it. Not their mums or Niall’s boys or Eoghan, even though Bressie feels as if he could burst from the thrill of it all. They’ve only just begun to look into surrogates with an agency based in Dublin, agreeing their child should be Irish through and through. They wouldn’t have it any other way, really.

It's difficult to keep it quiet, having to keep such huge news from their families. Bressie doesn't know how they're going to manage it when there's an actual baby on the way if it's this bad now. They've grown good at keeping secrets from the press, from the world over the years, back when their relationship was still shiny and new and they wanted to keep it for their own. Their child is only a dream now, but they still want to keep him or her shielded from the press from the very beginning. As such, they select an agency that's willing to work with them, allowing them to come in after hours one evening after Niall has finished the album promo and flown in and Bressie has wrapped filming for the day. They sneak in through the back entrance, meet with one of the counselors, and an hour later leave feeling more than a little overwhelmed. 

It's a lot to take in, at first. There's just so much  _information,_ about procedures and what to expect, and it's then Bressie realises they really have no idea what they're doing. He feels a little nauseated as they walk back to the car and he has to breathe slowly to keep himself from tipping over that edge he's all too familiar with. But Niall knows the signs by now, tucks his hand into Bressies and squeezes.

 

\--

 

Bressie is standing at the cooker of their London flat, making dinner when Niall bounds in with his iPad clutched in his hands. 

“What’ve you got there, chief?” he asks though he’s fairly certain he already knows, looking up from the stir fry. Ever since their appointment the previous week, Niall has been inseparable from his iPad. It was a miracle none of his bandmates have found out, with their habit of stealing one another’s electronics right out of each other’s hands - nosey little buggers they are. 

“Profiles,” Niall replies and tilts his screen to show him. “Found one I like.”

The woman is a pretty redhead with dark eyes and a smattering of freckles, but what stands out most to Bressie is how utterly kind she looks despite the harsh lights of the photograph. She’s caught in the middle of a laugh, smile wide and warm and she reminds him of Niall.

God, he hopes she’s what they’re looking for.

“What’s the rest say?”

“She’s twenty-eight from Athlone, 167 centimetres, teaches music at a primary school. Loves football, animals, books, and gardening, not genetically predisposed to anything that was tested for,” Niall says as he skims the most important bits of her profile. He raises his eyes to Bressie’s when he’s finished, biting his lower lip again like he can’t believe what he’s reading but wants to so badly, and for Bressie to agree. 

“I want to meet her,” Bressie says immediately. “As soon as possible.”


End file.
